Author's Note

Gaara's age by the end of chapter: near eleven. (Just take the number, I know the timestamps don't match up correctly.) Chunin Exams are coming up in the next arc. I popped back a few chapters and removed the author's notes I thought less than necessary.

Temari's canon summon, Kamatari, now has a personality I made up. As does basically every unnamed puppeteer you see in this fiction. Just a disclaimer because I'm not sure I made one earlier. Kamatari is canon, the puppeteers can be canon… the personalities I'm giving them, probably not canon.

(*grumbles. I swear. The number of K-names in here… Kishimoto, must you?)

Chapter 35

Kabuto (one month later, approximate time: 12:00 AM)

He had just gotten back from his own mission only to have to struggle with the infirmaries to regain control over the situation there. But that had required all shinobi with medical training to temporarily abandon their own projects to aid in Oto's recovery. He thus needed to check in with the ones running the more upper-level side projects before he had to answer to Lord Orochimaru about data delays and deal with riots of insubordination for himself. Or so he would have responded if questioned.

Kabuto leaned on a lab station to observe Katsu's progress. "So have you decided?" he asked nonchalantly.

Katsu scoffed lightly, translating the statement to ask if she still intended to leave. "As a matter of fact, no, I haven't."

Kabuto tilted his head nearly imperceptibly. It hadn't been the answer he was expecting.

"Do you ever get the sensation that all you have to do is stop or leave and the whole world would fall apart?" she asked in a rather amiable tone.

"... That's rather bold of you to say but I'm glad you think so highly about your research here," Kabuto replied with a curl of his mouth.

"I wasn't referring to my research."

Kabuto's body posture shifted at that, realizing the prior statement could have been interpreted in a multitude of different ways in their current context. Katsu herself was actually thinking in the context of Gaara—and Oto and the effect she had had upon both. Seemingly how reliant the items had become upon her, to the failings of both.

"Obviously, I've left plenty of things behind before… but I've never left something while feeling incomplete with it. But while I feel incomplete with it... I don't think it will ever allow me to be complete. It seems like there's always something more to do…" Her vocal amiability sobered and she pulled away from her work. "But I can't help but feel tired of it all… I'm starting to wonder whose world I'm even trying to care for."

"Then what would you do instead?" Kabuto asked carefully.

"... It hasn't ever been a question of 'what' for me… rather 'when' or 'where'... This research, the amount of knowledge at my fingertips is great. But it's unfortunate that I know it can all disappear just like that," she said, replying to his question. "I favor the quests that are sustainable for me since there'd be no point otherwise."

The reply meant there was trust she was willing to place in him, but no loyalty she was willing to place in Otogakure. But a distinct lack of fear of that being used against her. "Aren't you afraid Lord Orochimaru might try to clean up all loose ends?"

Katsu shrugged. "You basically run Otogakure in Lord Orochimaru's absence. And with the expected losses Oto would take after the attack on Konoha… What would you do?" Her tone shifted once more. "The only loose end there is is the one left by 'Katsu' and she doesn't really need to exist for much longer than necessary anyways… She never really existed."

The look in Kabuto's eye darkened.

"But I suppose the same can be said for you, though, being here," Katsu went on, reverting back to a more amicable tone of voice. "Maybe you'd be better off slipping away with your contacts in Konoha… But there really just isn't anything I particularly care about here in Oto myself. Not enough to make me stay."

Kabuto gave her a look. The entire conversation was rather ambiguous in content but his interpretation of their conversation gave him something to think about. The part about slipping away to Konoha. Like Katsu, Kabuto wasn't bound to Oto with his own history elsewhere. But unlike Katsu, he was much more valuable to Otogakure, much more likely to be hunted to death or aggressively coerced back if he were to run. It was the reason why another option had come to his mind… but still, "If you were to leave, where would you go?" Kabuto asked finally.

"Wherever the wind takes me," she replied simply. "The wind doesn't just blow only in Suna…"

Katiya (approximate time: 4:00 AM)

She finally had enough time to check in with the people actually under her care. But what was there wasn't pretty.

She knelt outside Arashi's cell, saying something to the boy, refraining from apologizing. She was sorry for having been away but there was little she could have done regardless. The elder the boy had been caring for died. There were only so many resources she was able to spend on a prisoner. Only so many that Oto was willing to spend on one during her absence. Her verbal apology could do nothing now.

"If your parents helped you simply out of a desire to care for you, why does there need to be a reason for you to care for anyone else?"

Her mother's jutsu that flowed through Katiya's chakra network—the "Lucid Sleep Healing Jutsu" as she referred to it now—wasn't a mess of instability like the jutsu she was working on. A part of her hypothesized it might have been depth of emotional connection—chakra release like that for the Sharingan that was dependent on surges of certain emotions—that was necessary to reach greater power and control for the jutsu. A part of her wanted to try her hypothesis out. Too many of her charges—prisoners—had died in the few weeks she was away. A part of her wanted to try her hypothesis out because she didn't want there to be one more. Not this one. But he was likely too weak to make it.

Katiya reached for the boy's hand. "Arashi, there's a belief among those here in Oto that in joining one's chakra with someone else's, that person would live on forever until the other died. Have you heard of it?"

Arashi only nodded, numb. The corpse was still fresh—still in the cell he had been sharing.

"Your jutsu—you care for your family and I hear a lot about how much your family cares about you and your ability to restore your clan. You have the means to do just that. You and all the members of your clan are gifted with your kekkei genkai."

"But how… My—he… I—!"

Katiya waited in silence for the boy's outburst to calm, gently rubbing her thumb over the hand she held as if to remind him she was there for him as well. "Your uncle loved you. Even in death, don't you think he'd have wanted to care for you? He died before his dream of seeing the clan restored could be actualized, but here and now, you can use the chakra he left behind. Take his chakra, Arashi. So he may live on, and you can restore your clan in his memory."

Arashi looked at the body, uncertain. All the other chakra transfers prior had been with non-humans with the thought that a human would have been able to dominate and control the extraneous chakra from a weaker source. Chakra being chakra. But that hadn't worked and the result was both unstable and pathetic. But now there was this opportunity that offered the same emotional connection Katiya had had when her mother poured chakra into her.

"Your uncle loved you. Take his chakra, so his love may live with you."

Arashi looked down onto his elder uncle's corpse and held his hands for one last time.

Please. This has to work.

Temari (approximate time: 4:00 PM)

She had spent an extra month working up her chakra levels. It would be a whole distinct organism and its consciousness she'd be summoning—she needed a lot of chakra to pull that up. She memorized the hand signs, she knew the feel of the jutsu itself—the feel of the energy she needed to carry in her hands for the summoning—Temari sucked in a breath.

Inoshi, inu, tora, saru, hitsuji!

The web-like markings of a Summoning Jutsu appeared in a circular radius on the floor Temari had slammed her hand into.

Poof!

Kankuro (approximate time: 4:00 PM)

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Kankuro said, greeting his shishou from the Puppeteer Corp. Whereas Baki-sensei was his general instructor after his graduation from the Academy, his shishou was his specialty-master and happened to be head of the Corp. Stepping into the office workspace, he became aware of two ANBU agents standing beside the door. "Something… the matter?" Kankuro asked carefully.

"Kankuro, these two ANBU agents have some questions for you—you still got your camera and the other photos from this report you filed to us… a month ago?"

Kankuro gave the two ANBU agents a look. "Yeah sure—I've still got all of them—!" Kankuro replied somewhat nervously.

Temari (approximate time: 4:05 PM)

"Hello," Temari said politely to the creature that had just appeared, her eyes wide open—she felt like a kid all over again, just witnessing and trying out her first Wind Scythe Jutsu.

The smoke cleared.

A rather small white weasel was revealed, chittering surprisedly. "Greetings!"

Temari stifled a gasp and bowed politely but had not otherwise jolted out of shock. She had heard from her sensei that most spirit summons were capable of human speech, but there was still something uncanny about seeing it in person.

Temari took in the appearance of her summoning spirit, which was dressed in a red trimmed black vest and eyepatch, but most notably carrying a sickle about as large as itself. The summoning spirit's dark colored eyepatch over its left eye was of a similar material to the scrap of cloth she originally pulled up with the Summoning Jutsu aid she previously used.

Temari watched as the summon wrapped itself into a sitting position, tilting its head. "Well? You're my new summoner—you got anything to say?"

"Hi, my name's Temari?" she tried.

The spirit harrumphed before scratching its—his—head with its hind leg. Or so she assumed given the…

"Kamatari," came the reply.

There was an awkward silence. Temari rather wished her sensei gave her a bit more context on the etiquette rather than just the bare bones of the jutsu mechanics. Temari cleared her throat… awkwardly.

"So you've got a wind affinity, eh?" the summon asked to fill the silence. "I probably wouldn't have decided to appear otherwise after you gave me a nail clipping—for the love of all things holy—I'm a sickle weasel and you lost me a sickle claw!"

Temari blinked, unsure of how to respond. "Uhh… yes?"

The weasel, Kamatari, let out a short. "Good thing I use proper sickles anyways. I'm sure you have questions—you going to ask anything? Nothing really here for me to attack, which is what most summoners tend to call me for—you want me to poof off?"

"N-No." Temari regained control over herself. "No," she said a bit more firmly. "How does this work? Are there more of you? Baki-sensei mentioned something about spirit-shinobi paired jutsu?"

Kamatari harrumphed again. "Now that's more like it. I'm a spirit summon. You can summon me. You've got a wind affinity—and I see a fan there on your back—that's important."

Temari relaxed her body and sat more comfortably. "How so?" she asked.

Kankuro (approximate time: 7:00 PM)

Kankuro watched as the ANBU marched away before using a Body Flicker Jutsu to exit the compound his quarters were in. "Man, that took longer than I thought," he said aloud. The ANBU seemingly not only took the extra photos and camera he had used, but also inspected his quarters and other reconnaissance gear he had taken with him the day he went to the Land of Rivers on that mission with his sister.

"Aye, Kankuro…" his shishou murmured. "You have no idea what trouble those ANBU were giving me earlier. Sorry 'bout that, punk."

"Yeah—no worries. They were just doing their jobs, right?"

Kankuro's shishou gave him a look. "The photos and the report you filed—that uniform on that rogue-nin you found—a report like that ought to have gone straight up to the village intelligence division if not your father himself."

Kankuro jolted at that last statement. "That bad? Who was that punk anyways, shishou, for the ANBU to be that concerned?"

His shishou shook his head disconcertedly. "The next time you see cloaks with those clouds, punk, you better run. We don't know much about them, but we've managed to get they're all S-rank jonin rogues gathering together. And that's never a good sign. Going by the name 'The Akatsuki'. Nasty stuff, punk."

Kankuro frowned, nodding slowly. The "Akatsuki", huh? Kankuro frowned.

Temari (approximate time: 7:00 PM)

Temari smeared her blood onto the fabric of her fan. Kamatari had taught her how to summon him without hand signs to better suit her wind-style jutsu and they were now working on paired attacks. "Summoning: Quick Beheading Dance Jutsu!" Temari yelled, swinging towards her dirt targets.

She currently had enough chakra to summon Kamatari twice at full power—or once if she wanted spare chakra for other jutsu and couldn't stop for rest—or four times, using the fan as a conduit rather than hand signs. But in battle, there would have been no need as summoning Kamatari just once would have given her his additional aid until he himself decided to return to the spirit realm. The summon also had told her there were others—the weasel summoning spirits historically appeared in threes much like shinobi did—but that one was a medic and didn't leave the spirit realm as much, being one, and that the other was one just she didn't have the chakra for. Kamatari would be her dominant summon until then.

Kamatari poofed into existence, somehow flying his sickle on the wind currents generated by Temari's fan, his body balancing his weapon to ride the air like one of our frisbees. Dirt and hay targets quickly found themselves obliterated, the ground itself bearing signs of wear as the torrents of wind tore at the earth. Some distance off, if you heard the sound of an abandoned building collapsing, you would not be mistaken. Sand took to the air and Temari could appreciate how that would have been able to blind the enemy as well, if they managed to keep their eyes open despite the air pressure.

After the jutsu abated, Temari closed her fan to lean on it. She had been astonished by the more advanced jutsu Kamatari used to ride his sickle on the air as it was closer to flying than the gliding she did with her own fan. It was so gravity defying she had hardly recognized it as a wind-style.

"That it for today?" Kamatari asked, somehow whipping around and flying back, still riding his sickle before lowering himself to the ground.

"Not yet," Temari told him, "Let me just catch my breath."

Kamatari hummed in reply.

"How'd you do that, anyways?"

"Uh?"

"The ride on your sickle thing—it's like gliding, but not really. How did you do that?"

"Ah!" Kamatari chirped. "It's sort of a paired jutsu, you know? Your initial wind blast gives me lift, I shoot off my own wind currents to turn. Or pop me up a bit of altitude when I get too low. I just need that lift to get me up in the first place—or some nice height to start out with, anyways."

"That's it?"

"Uh huh."

"Can I do that?"

"Don't see why not. Though, being smaller helps you spin faster. Not sure it'd work the same way; been a while since a human tried any of our weasel stuff. I guess getting you the lift would be the hard part. How good are you at wind-style jutsu without your fan?" Kamatari asked.

Temari got up. Time to find out.

Kabuto (two months later, approximate time: 5:00 PM)

He walked down the tunnel leading to the upper-rank shinobi quarters of the main Otogakure base.

He knew what had happened and he knew what was coming, what his lord expected him to help bring about because of it. Otogakure was coming up on its peak—his master was settling more fully into the body that was his current vessel. He expected it, even though he didn't necessarily have all the details behind it—all of the recent happenings during his absence. He assumed most of what he didn't know. Did he feel badly for it? He wasn't sure. He couldn't say he felt anything about it.

The door to his quarters shut. And Kabuto found himself waiting.

In perhaps less than a year, Otogakure would strike and all its shinobi would be busy with the operation yet to come. They were playing shogi with people's lives. His place as a game piece was a given—he recognized it. His master allowed him to play the game himself, from time to time. But to play the game permanently in his stead—did he dare do it? Could he—? He had his cards—Lord Orochimaru his game pieces. He'd have to bring the game pieces he did have closer. Either way. To leave or to become a game master himself. He had yet to make a decision.

Katiya (approximate time: I don't know—I don't know—I don't know)

Katiya rubbed her temples. She was avoiding the infirmaries and she was avoiding the tokubetsu wards she used to work at. But she wanted a distraction. It had gotten too far. Too far. She had gone too far—too far without—something. She cleaned up her mess—everything was put away—but even though her work was sterilized by practice, it did not feel clean. She was missing something now. She couldn't name it and she hated it, and so she hated it because she couldn't name it, but that didn't change the sensation that something was missing.

It was a familiar sensation, but still, it grated.

She needed a familiar face that wasn't going to brainwash or spy on her. Few people fit the bill. She didn't really know how to start the conversation she wanted to have without sounding suspicious—she didn't know how to start a conversation at all at that point—but that was okay. Thinking about the possible conversation distracted her mind enough to not think about what was truly bothering her—that she could not admit to any of the stronger—"stronger" in some cases—shinobi that still insisted on calling her a "trash-nin".

When were you going to tell me you're the Hokage's goddaughter? She walked down the hall to where Ryuteki's quarters were. What the hell are you doing here if you're the Hokage's goddaughter… ? Katiya rounded the corner to an open door.

And then Katiya and her mind stilled, standing in front of the emptied quarters.

…

Time passed. A neighboring door creaked open. "Was there something you wanted?"

Katiya bowed her head. How long have I been standing here? Somehow Kabuto managed to stick his nose in everything she tried to do. "I was just looking for Ryuteki," she said quietly.

"She's not here anymore."

I know. I realized, Katiya noted sadly.

"Lord… Orochimaru also wanted me to tell you he wants a lab report on your progress," Kabuto said in a rather abrupt change of subject for him. Katiya rolled with it. What would she have talked about with Ryuteki anyways?

"It'll be done by tomorrow."

There was a pensive pause. "The report was due this morning."

"I know."

"Lord—"

"I know," she snapped back, coming out of her earlier… stupor of something. "I was out on assignment for two weeks. I have missing data I need to gather before I can submit a full report. Last I checked, it's a valid excuse."

Pause. "—Assignment?"

"Prisoner transport. On Lord Orochimaru's orders too."

Kabuto tensed slightly. "Who delivered them?"

"Someone named Rinji. Any significance?"

A corner of Kabuto's mouth twitched downwards. "No. It's not anything important to you," he said as he turned to move. "You… weren't originally scheduled for any missions recently, so it took me by surprise, that's all."

Katiya blinked before moving off in a different direction. What is that supposed to mean? The reason why Katiya had sought out Ryuteki faded. Now she was just pissed off and confused by Kabuto. She breathed the thought of Kabuto away, moving away.

Kabuto (approximate time: 5:05 PM)

I'm sorry about your experiment failure.

Katiya (approximate time: 5-something PM)

Katiya walked out of the base, feeling suffocated by Oto but at the same time daunted by her distance with everyone and everything in the underground pits of the place. She needed to think. But even though it would have helped to clear her mind, she didn't want to stay underground and train under someone's eyes. She was tired of the eyes beneath the earth. So she climbed. Without chakra—so she could feel what it was like to be human and not a shinobi.

The experiment yielded a success in some regards—a powerful, virtually immortal shinobi with the excess chakra contained within a sole container—but at what cost? Nearly everyone else who was under her care had died or was so severely injured they had to have been put down out of mercy in the resulting instability of one man. The remainder, to be transferred to a new base; the person with the Chakra Absorption Jutsu now given a priority to another mission with the termination of the experiment. The experiment, though successful in some regards, was too unstable to be contained under her care. She had failed to stabilize the jutsu or minimize the harm of it.

Yet the jutsu was a success in creating a nearly immortal man, but the experiment was the failure. She was tired of it all.

When she finally stopped tree climbing, she sat listening to the leaves, her eyes closed. Pretending it was the waves. There were no seas inland in the Land of Rice Paddies. But if she just leaned back, after the splash into the unknown, wouldn't it just be like swimming? After a while, she opened her eyes to scrape the dirt out from under her nails and rub at the scuffs on her arms from when she had gripped the bark. She was useless as a healer. She still cared too much to be one. A healer or shinobi. And she had yet to find out how to grapple with it. Her thoughts churned.

Why do you want to help them? What do they matter? You know there's no benefit to it. What can helping a prisoner and a dying man do? Why do it? Why do anything if you don't know why?

The wind picked up around her, swirling the leaves of the tree. Her grip on the tree trunk tightened.

I do it because I want to remember… I want the memories I had to come alive. If not the memories themselves, then the sensation I had from them. Love. Isn't that a benefit in and of itself?

Katiya inhaled and she shifted her head to look at the ground—her eyes were prickling again.

… But what's the point if it's not reciprocated? You know there's no benefit to it. What can they give you for all the love you give them? Why do it? What do any of them matter? What does any of it matter? Why help them at all if their love can do nothing for you?

Her mind could find no response. Her eyes were burning but the tears she felt she had didn't come. She pulled her head up to the horizon and adjusted her legs to straddle the tree branch she was on, decreasing the likelihood of her body falling from the height she was at.

Why are you so bent out of shape by them just because you can't help them? When in the end, it wouldn't matter?

She let out a breath and the prickling in her eyes faded. She had felt guilty over their deaths. Previously. But that had passed. She had no tangible answer to her question, but her time in the trees made her less certain she was in need of one. Because in the end, none of it seemed to matter. Katiya pulled one of her legs up and leapt off the tree, propelling herself into a front-flip and then free falling into a crouched landing on the ground. She stood and looked to the horizon again, this time from the ground.

Her face was neutral under her balaclava, her lips slightly parted. Yet she somehow felt like she was smiling faintly, if emotionlessly.

The experiment was a failure, but failure had its uses. The failure was valuable enough such that Lord Orochimaru still wanted a lab report on it. She supposed there was one other use for it she could come up with.